Lor Mandela - Destruction from Twins, page 39
Again the room was filled with raucous cheers and applause.
She mounted her platform, and it rose to just below her dad’s and Kahlie’s.
After the resurgence of applause faded, Jonathan lowered to his seat, followed by the rest of the council. He leaned forward and pressed a small green button on the arm of his chair. The room darkened and his platform glowed in the signature Borloc blue.
“My friends,” he began, “it’s good to be together again." He turned his eyes to Kahlie, who nodded in agreement. “First of all, Ator Kahlie, my daughter and I wish to express our thanks to you and your communities for your support and faith on our behalf. Many marvelous things have taken place on Lor Mandela." He waited for the clapping that followed to die down before adding, “As you are all aware, I have recently taken Kahlie as my entrusted. With the passing of Ultara, she was also called as the Trysta vritesse.”
He looked lovingly at Kahlie. He could have never imagined that the gawky girl who used to daydream and flit around Mandela Palace would one day hold such an honored position . . . or his heart. Admittedly, at first, his feelings for her had frightened him a bit; he didn’t want to forget Gracielle, but it was Kahlie’s own love for Gracielle that finally assured him that she would never be forgotten; she would always be a part of them all. After staring at Kahlie for several seconds, he cleared his throat and continued. “I believe that this symbolizes a new era on Lor Mandela . . . a new beginning. It has been more than a thousand years since the ator has also been the vritesse. It speaks to us of unity and peace . . . of oneness.”
Oneness, Audril repeated in her mind. She marveled at the power of the word “one." It had been the recurring theme in the Advantiere. One planet divided had to become one again to survive. Twins had to be one to restore the decay and deterioration of one soul. Two races that had ruled side by side for generations were now a single ruling body—one. The final line of the Advantiere, Then will ONE forever reign, echoed over and over again in her head.
Suddenly, a sobering realization swept through her mind. The pictures—the faces she’d seen on the wall—until this very moment, she’d forgotten the last one. It hadn’t been Kahlie’s like she’d remembered at the time of the battle. The last face she saw that day in the Advantiere Room had been her own. The line that she’d assumed referred to Ryannon—One must be as these words written,—was actually fulfilled by both Ryannon and Kahlie. Twins had to act as one, and speak the words that were written—together. Only after they did, would the destruction caused by twins be undone. Only then would ONE forever reign.
It was her! The last line of the Advantiere—it was to be fulfilled by her. Then will one forever reign. Forever. . .forever. Was that why Ryannon hadn’t been able to kill her?
She sat in a contemplative daze on her platform for the rest of the meeting. Even after the majority of the delegates were gone, she remained deep in thought, sitting on her burgundy velvet chair, staring into space.
It was Kahlie who first noticed how distracted she was.
“Audril? Hey Buzz, what is it?” At this point, both Bridgette and Jonathan had joined Kahlie and were looking with concern at Audril.
“Angel,” Jonathan tried, “are you all right?”
Audril’s eyes were glassy and distant.
“Dad, I think I know why the dagger didn’t kill me.” As she said it, her expression changed from dazed to terrified. "It didn’t kill me . . . because I don’t think I can be killed.”
“What?” Jonathan chuckled, “Yeah, well that would be wonderful, sweetheart, but . . . .”
“No, Atoc.” A familiar voice oozed from a wall a few feet behind them. “Ze atoha ees correct.”
A dark wave rippled across the wall as Lortu slinked out of the shadows.
“De Child of Bahlanz. De Clest Anaria, she ees now eemortal.”
He glided across the room and looked Audril in the eyes. “Aye was wondereeng how long eet would take for hair to feegure eet out.”
“What,” Audril whispered, “how?”
Lortu paced around for a moment. “Dis beezness of doeeng tings just to be nice ees not profitting de Noble Lortu.”
“You were given a spot on the council, Lortu. What more do you want?” Jonathan retorted.
“Aye am requiring a portal, Atoc, in De Bogs . . . only one portal. If you would arrange eet weeth your friend, Tabbeet . . . ?”
“Out of the question!” Jonathan snapped. “So you can what? Transport Ryannon off of Lor Mandela? How much has he paid you, Lortu?”
Lortu growled at him as though he was thoroughly disgusted. “Ryannon of Brashnell does not have anyting dat Lortu desires,” he seethed. “He ees de enemy. He will never be maye best offer!” He turned and in a huff moved back toward the wall.
“No, wait!” Audril blurted. “Please, Lortu . . . don’t go!”
Lortu looked into her pleading blue eyes and sighed. He walked back to Jonathan, and explained, “Dis portal . . . It weel benefit de both of us zomeday zoon, Atoc.”
The anger was visibly slipping from his face as he went on. “But, eef you say no, for de good of your people, aye weel not put de Lor Mandela een danger. Aye weel steel tell you what leetle aye know about de atoha.”
Jonathan studied Lortu’s face. There was nothing there but sincerity—something that was not commonly found in a Shadow Dweller’s countenance.
“I’m sorry Lortu,” he apologized, “I shouldn’t have been so quick to judge." He thought for a moment and then added, “You and I will discuss this portal. If I can see the benefit, and you can assure me that it will be very well hidden, I’ll have Tabbit accompany you to The Bogs.”
“Ahhh, tank you, Atoc.” Lortu bowed. “De atoha,” he explained, “she was geeven a gift in exchange for saveeng de Lor Mandela. She ees geeven great powah, and all eternity to use eet.”
“Wait! How? I mean, what power?” Audril stammered. “I don’t understand. You’re saying that I’m . . . immortal?” It was difficult for her to even say the word. “How? I mean, how is that even possible?”
Lortu paced along the back wall. As he did, he ran his thin hand slowly along its rich brown surface. It was odd to watch his hand disappear and reappear as it slid in and out of shadow. “De Shadow Dwellers know many tings, but we do not know all,” he explained. “What we do know, Atoha, ees dat de answers you seek . . . de answers only you can find . . . day are steel hidden from you.” He leaned against the wall and slowly faded into it. His final words resonated from a dark corner after he vanished from sight. "Day are steel hidden in de Advantiere.”
Epilogue
“You know . . . you’re gonna have to speak to him eventually.” Audril leaned playfully against Bridgette and made a pouty face. “Look at him,” she continued, “he looks so sad!”
She was referring to Glaron, who was standing across the ballroom from them, looking very handsome, but also very gloomy.
It had been three weeks since the battle, and since Bridgette had realized that the guy she thought she was in love with was actually someone else. There was something about the fact that he was a twenty-six year old magical alien that made her feel sort of violated. She’d been doing a masterful job of avoiding him—until now.
“I don’t even know him,” she responded defensively, but then turned to the side a little and pretended to be fidgeting with her dress so that Audril couldn’t see her glance in his direction.
“You thought I was someone different too, Bridge,” Audril scolded, “and you still speak to me.”
“That’s different,” she replied. She spun to face Audril and raised her head like she was snubbing Glaron. “You didn’t know you were someone else. He did!” She smoothed the skirt of her pale pink gown and continued, “It makes me mad, ya know? It makes me so mad, I just wanna, I dunno . . . I just wanna,” She rolled her hand into a fist. "punch him right in the nose!”
Audril grinned and her eyes widened. “Well,” she smirked, “here’s your chance.” She looked past Bridgette, to Glaron, who had come over and was now standing right behind her.
“Mmm hmmm,” he cleared his throat, “may I have this dance?” He bowed humbly, and then added, “Please, Bridge, don’t say no.”
Bridgette slowly turned to face him. She had to admit that he did look stunning in his dress uniform. “Oh, all right,” she agreed, “just one dance, though!”
He smiled and playfully asked, “You’re not going to punch me in the nose, are you?”
“I might,” she snipped. She took his arm, and walked with him to the dance floor.
Audril was left alone with her thoughts. What a ride this had been! She couldn’t believe all that had happened in such a short time. She looked out over the festive celebration before her; everyone seemed so happy. The ladies were beautiful in their many colored gowns, and the men were dashing in their suits and uniforms. Couples danced, friends visited and laughed. It was truly a glorious scene.
What she couldn’t understand, however, was why—in the midst of all this contentment—she felt so uneasy and so miserable. Maybe it was because she didn’t have someone special in her life. It seemed like everyone else did. Bridgette, her dad, and Kahlie—they’d all found love. All she’d found was some lunatic murderer who cared little about anyone but himself.
The song that had been playing ended, but Bridgette and Glaron stayed on the floor. “Just one dance, though!” Audril mocked Bridgette. “Yeah, like I didn’t see that one coming!”
Just then, there was a tap on her shoulder. It was so light that at first she almost didn’t feel it. She turned around to see a tiny little creature bouncing up and down behind her. “Oh . . . hello, Tabbit!” she grinned. “Don’t you look lovely this evening?”
Tabbit twirled around in her shimmery peach dress, giggled and repeated, “Don’t you look lovely this evening?” She reached up for Audril’s hand and whispered, “Times to dances, Atoh Lady!” She winked and then started pulling Audril along toward the dance floor.
Audril was a little embarrassed that she was being asked to dance by Tabbit. Oh well, she thought, I guess it’s better than nothing! When they reached the edge of the floor, Tabbit bobbed up and down on her toes a couple of times, and then skipped merrily off.
“Okay,” she sighed, “maybe it’s not better.”
“What’s not?” She spun around—shocked by the voice she’d just heard.
There, clean-shaven, neatly groomed, and dressed to the nines was Dallin Doone—holding a pale purple rose—very much alive!
“Here, this is for you.” He gestured toward Tabbit who was nodding and beaming from ear to ear. He leaned over and whispered, “She said you wouldn’t dance with me unless I gave you a flower.”
Audril was speechless. She took the rose from his hands and just stared at him.
“What?” he chuckled nervously. “You don’t want to? Ugh! You don’t want to!” He grunted disgustedly. “I knew it! I look stupid, huh?”
Audril gasped and coughed. “Uh . . . no . . . no! You don’t look stupid. You look just . . . .”
He raised his hands into dance position. “Shall we?” he smiled.
She smiled back and took his hands.
The rest of the evening flew by as she and Dallin danced and talked the whole night away. When the celebration ended, he didn’t want to leave her.
“You wanna take a walk?” he asked.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” she answered. “There’s somewhere I’ve been dying to see.”
“Really, where?”
She smiled and took him by the arm. “The Ator’s Anaria.”
He escorted her away from the ballroom and out toward the main palace doors.
“Wait, not this way.” She pulled him toward a corridor at the far side of the entrance foyer. "Come on!”
“Where are we going?” he asked as they made their way down the dim hallway.
“You’ll see.” Audril stopped outside a wooden door and motioned for Dallin to go in first.
He pushed the door open. “A kitchen?” he asked.
“Yeah, a kitchen,” she breathed. “This is where . . .” she took a couple of steps into the room, “where my mother was killed.” She touched a small crystal on the wall, and a faint light flickered on. “I just wanna see if this memory . . . .”
She didn’t finish her thought. She grabbed Dallin by the hand and led him to the closet at the back of the room.
“In the floor, under the shelves that line the back wall,” she breathed.
Dallin opened the closet door and peered inside. “What are we looking for?” he asked.
Audril slid past him, and walked around to the back of the shelves. "That!” she answered, pointing. There, in the floor, was a large dark tunnel. “Come on!” She sat down on the edge and lowered herself in.
“Are you sure this is safe?” he chuckled as he dropped down into the hole.
What had been the floor seemed to magically twist, and was now the ceiling.
“Whoa,” Audril giggled, “that was weird.”
“Yeah,” Dallin agreed, “which way?”
She shrugged her shoulders, but then pointed down a long tunnel and they started off. It wasn’t long before the smooth, muddy stone walls were replaced by twisting, vining tree roots.
“Wow! I can’t believe this is all down here,” Audril mused. “It’s awesome!”
Dallin looked at her and smiled. “How did you know about this? Did your mother tell you?”
“I overheard her talking about it,” she answered.
They rounded a corner and came to a place where several tunnels all merged together.
“Which way?” he questioned.
“Let’s try over here.”
He took her by the hand and they continued on. After a few moments of silence, Audril stopped and turned to Dallin. Something had been weighing heavily on her mind.
“Dallin,” she tried, “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but how did you survive that vystoran? I saw it hit you!”
Audril cringed as his face dropped.
“Oh, uh . . . if you don’t want to tell me,” she stammered.
“No, it’s all right,” he assured. “You saw it hit someone, but it wasn’t me.”
“What? I don’t understand.”
Dallin continued, “It was raining and cloudy.” He paused, then added, “And there were a lotta shadows.”
“Wait! A dweller?” Audril gasped.
Dallin nodded. “He saw the vystoran comin’ and sorta blended in to me. I didn’t even realize he was there. He actually stabbed me in the side so I’d look like I was in pain. He knew that they’d shoot me again if I didn’t go down.”
“What happened to the Dweller?” she asked, hoping that Dallin would tell her how Dwellers aren’t affected by vystorans, and how he just ran off into the forest afterwards.
He shook his head sadly.
“But, that doesn’t make sense,” she argued. “Why would he sacrifice himself like that? Aren’t Dwellers profiteers?”
“Well, yeah . . . they are, but as a group. They consider it honorable to sacrifice themselves to profit a bigger cause.”
“What bigger cause?”
Dallin looked down at his toes and seemed to blush. “Lortu said that it’s my destiny to protect you from Ryannon. He told me that as long as Ryannon is alive, I have to stick around and keep you safe.”
“Keep me safe?” she giggled nervously. “Well . . . I, um . . . how flattering, sir!”
Suddenly, her eyes and Dallin’s met. She found herself locked in his gaze as she stared deeply into his soulful brown eyes. She couldn’t break eye contact and she really didn’t want to.
Slowly, he leaned closer to her; slowly, she leaned closer to him. He moved his hands onto her waist and slid them around and up her back.
“I’m glad you came back,” he whispered.
“I’m glad you did too.”
She tilted her head slightly and closed her eyes in anticipation. A flood of heat and emotion welled inside of her as his arms wrapped around her, and he pulled her tightly to him. She felt his warm breath on her cheek, when suddenly. . . .
“Ahhhh! Noooo!” A scratchy, squeaky, blood-curdling scream echoed through the tunnels, followed by a loud crash.
“Tabbit!” Audril gasped.
“Tabbit? Come On!” Dallin grabbed her by the hand and they sped off toward the direction of Tabbit’s voice.
Audril’s eyes darted around frantically. “Tabbit,” she called out, “Tabbit! Where are you?”
There was no answer.
“Over here!” Dallin instructed. “I think I saw something.” He pulled Audril toward what looked like a beam of light on the floor, which seemed to be coming from a source around a corner. No sooner had they run across the light, when it expanded, and there was a loud pop.
“A portal?” Dallin yelped as they emerged. “I thought the Squanki were s’posed to destroy ‘em all!” He glanced over at Audril who was staring out at the scene before her in horror. All of the color had drained from her face, and she was barely breathing.
He turned to see what had caused such a reaction, and what he observed was unlike anything he had ever witnessed before. Piles that looked like they had recently been buildings lay smoldering across the landscape. Trees and shrubs were blackened and smoking. There was no movement at all—no activity and no life whatsoever—for as far as the eye could see.
“Oh, no.” Audril’s nearly inaudible voice trembled. “Dallin, we’re in Glenhill.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Dallin caught sight of the one thing in town that still remained standing. Now, his face too, bore a look of terror. He reached out and tugged on the waist of Audril’s dress. She turned her head towards him. He was looking straight ahead and pointing. She followed the direction of his finger and there, where Glenhill High School had been before, a single structure stood intact. It was the school’s marquee. Across it in black plastic letters were the words,
